The night Jael left was hard for Mauve, but it wasn't as hard as sunrise, when it was time to sleep. She tossed and turned in bed, but no position felt comfortable. She knew that while he was away, she would be nothing but miserable.
Mauve did her best not to miss him too terribly—if not for her sake, at least for the baby's, as her mood was likely to affect her health, especially her sleeping schedule. But it was difficult.
By the third night, Ferguson could tell something was wrong during his usual check-up. He sat on the chair with a brooding look as he studied her.
"You're not sleeping, my princess," he finally said. "We can't afford that, not at this stage when you could be due any moment."
Mauve sniffed and rubbed her nose. "I know, but it's just so hard to sleep these days. I toss and turn, and no position feels comfortable."
"Do you need more blankets?" Mill offered, her face filled with concern. "Or perhaps a different bed?"
